


The Worst Part Isn't the Fall

by Quinny_555



Series: You Should See Me in a Crown [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Gen, Panic Attacks, Sam's Not Having a Good Day, Worried Dean Winchester, but that's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555
Summary: Being the King of Hell is stressful, especially for someone who isn't even a demon. Sam just needs a minute, really, just a minute.





	The Worst Part Isn't the Fall

Sam paced around the motel room he and Dean were currently renting. He had left Meg in charge of Hell while he went on a few hunts with his brother. He claimed it was because he hadn't been spending enough time with him lately- which was partly true- but the real reason was just that he had to get  _ away _ . Running Hell was as stressful as you might think even when he was able to delegate jobs to trusted demons. Well, as trusted as demons could be. Sure, they weren't all evil (some far from it), but they were all self-serving. If they thought that they weren't on the winning team they wouldn't hesitate to switch. He ran a hand through his long hair. 

It was all too much. While he had become accustomed to the power running through his veins all day every day it was still overwhelming. Add the stress of keeping Lucifer in his cage, hearing the Devil in his head any time he was in Hell, and the time change between Hell and Earth screwing with him more than he thought it would, could anyone blame him for needing a  _ fucking  _ minute? He killed an angel and,  _ Oh God I killed an angel.  _ He had never really had time to process it since it happened, but geez. He may not have done it directly but he had helped. If he hadn't been damned before… who was he kidding, of course he was damned before. He was now sitting on the bed and- when did he sit down?- the lights were flickering. He probably had something to do with that.

Lights blew out when he was angry, so what did they do when he was having a panic attack? Huh, he supposed that that was what was happening. He hadn't had one of those since Stanford. He wondered how long it had been since Dean went to get food. Again with the time change screwing with him. It could have been minutes, it could have been  _ hours _ . Who knew? Time was fluid like that sometimes. The door opened and he heard someone say something like,  _ Sammy!  _ But maybe not. He couldn't hear much past the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his ragged breathing. There were strong hands on his arms, guiding him to lower his head between his knees. He didn't fight them because he knew it was  _ Dean  _ and his brother wouldn't let anything happen to him. Breathing became minutely easier and he became aware of his brother’s voice. 

“C’mon, man, breath with me, in and out.” Dean demonstrated and Sam followed. After several minutes his heart stopped feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest and his head cleared. He was glad that there was no Lucifer to ruin the peace he felt up there. Dean patted his back. “You good?” He asked and Sam nodded. He cleared his throat slightly. 

“Uh, yeah, just kinda… lost my head there.” He laughed weakly. Dean looked at him with thinly veiled concern but tried not to make a big deal of it, which Sam appreciated. 

“Okay. Cool. Um, look, if you ever need to… talk, I'm here, ya’ know?” Dean said, looking a little uncomfortable but Sam could tell the sentiment was genuine. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Sam said, and he meant it. 


End file.
